


The Start of Something New

by happywhorecruxhunting



Category: Glee, High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Episode: s04e08 Thanksgiving, F/M, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Break Up, Season/Series 04, somewhat canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-29 23:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20804792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywhorecruxhunting/pseuds/happywhorecruxhunting
Summary: Following the Season 4 break up, Kurt is single and hurting. He encounters the ruggedly handsome Ryan Evans at a party. How will Kurt juggle his feelings for his ex and the new man he keeps bumping into? Could this be more than a rebound?  (This story began as a weird daydream and sort of spiraled from there.  It was originally posted to Fanfic net under the username TeamMordsith3.)





	1. Halloween Hookup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humuhumunukunukuapua'a

Rachel had been bustling through the apartment sighing loudly since she got home. She obviously wanted him to ask what was bothering her, but Kurt was not about to interact with her. She'd just try to convince him to go out with her again. He was perfectly content to sit here and wait for her to start her nagging and pleading without his assistance. And then she had turned off The Notebook in a bid for his attention. Instead, Kurt focused on spooning ice cream into his mouth.

"Honestly Kurt, it's our first Halloween in New York. Now, you have been moping around the apartment for weeks."

He looked up from the half-eaten pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish food, fully intending to tell Rachel off for the umpteenth and hopefully last time this week. Words failed him as he took in the Rachel Berry fashion before him: A fuzzy headband with rounded ears and a brown tail poking out from beneath a brown tube top trying to pass for a dress.

"Are you dressed as a slutty monkey?" he managed to say.

"Kurt!" she gasped, affronted. "I'm not just any slutty monkey." There was a knock as the door of the loft began to slide open. "And there's my Ted Shackleford now."

Brody entered the apartment with a big grin. Kurt didn't know where to look first. The tight, bright yellow boxer briefs, the large yellow boater hat, or the ridiculous yellow polka dotted tie on his bare frustratingly hairless chest.

A laugh forced its way out of his throat. "Oh my god. You're going out as Sex-Curious George and the Man in the yellow hat?" He managed to wheeze between laughs.

"It's cute." Rachel insisted. "Kurt, you have to come with us. Go put on your costume. Right now. Go!"

"Rachel," he protested as she dragged him off the couch, pushing him toward his room, "I don't have a costume."

Rachel shushed him. "Now go in your room and don't come out until you're ready to party." She pulled the curtain shut behind him.

Kurt sighed and stomped over to his closet. Plenty of things in his wardrobe could pass for a costume, but he wasn't in the mood for something bondage chic. Or anything really. A crumpled-up t shirt on the bottom of the closet caught his eye and inspiration struck. He shimmied into a pair of dark skinny jeans, pulled the wrinkled tee over his head, and slid on a red button down.

"Rachel?" he called tentatively.

"Uh uh. Don't even think about coming out here without a costume on." she said from just beyond the curtain.

"Do you still have Finn's Brad glasses?"

After a pause, she responded. "I'll get them."

Barely any time had passed before her hand pushed through the curtain and into his room. He took the black frames and put them into place before stepping out of the curtain.

"Well, what do you think?"

Brody inclined his head at the costume choice as Rachel squealed her approval and clapped her hands.

"Our first New York Halloween!" she said, "Let's go!"

** x**

Kurt leisurely sipped his coke from his spot at the bar. It had only taken Rachel twenty minutes to leave him all alone. At least she was having a good time, he thought bitterly. He took the thick black frames off his nose and set them on the table, putting his head in his hands.

"Taking off the glasses kind of ruins the disguise, doncha think?"

Kurt turned to see who had spoken. Standing behind him was a gorgeous blond in a grass skirt. A hula dancer, perhaps? "Looks like my cover's blown." He said, inwardly applauding himself on his quick and cool response.

He sat in the empty chair beside Kurt. "Was this seat taken?"

Kurt shook his head, trying to avoid the blond's green-eyed gaze. "All yours."

"I was over there on the dance floor and I could help but notice you sitting here."

"Really?" Kurt breathed, hoping against hope he wasn't blushing.

"Yeah. You looked like you'd rather be anywhere but here." He leaned in closer, "What gives?"

"Oh." Kurt forced his facial muscles not to show his disappointment. "My roommate dragged me out and abandoned me at a club where nobody knows me," he explained.

A brilliantly white smile spread across his face. "What's your name?"

"Kurt." He answered far too quickly.

"Well, Kurt, now someone in this bar knows you. Let me get you another drink." He motioned for the bartender to bring two more drinks.

"You have a name, Lilo?"

He chuckled, and the sound made Kurt weak at his knees. "Ryan Evans. And to be clear, I'm a tiki warrior." He cupped his right hand around his mouth and whispered, "I couldn't really pull off the cute Polynesian hula dancer look."

"It's very…sequined for a tiki warrior." He said, brushing his hands along the belt of the hula skirt.

The man laughed. "You should have seen the original."

"You altered it yourself?" Kurt asked, allowing himself to examine the costume in its entirety. It really was gorgeous, if not suitable for a tiki warrior.

"I've had it since high school. Long story. This costume started as a joke, but I've been altering it slightly every year."

Kurt took a few sips of his drink and searched the dance floor for Rachel and Brody. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, just above his yellow boxers as they spun around. How could she look this happy so soon after the disaster that was Grease?

"Is there a Louis or Lois Lane in the picture?" Ryan asked breaking him out of his musing.

"Louis, but no. I'm single." He took a deep breath and went for it. "Is there some sort of tiki warrior prince?"

Kurt wasn't sure what it was about this man that inspired him to be so forward. It looked like Kurt may just end up taking Santana's break-up advice after all.

"Just me." Ryan took a sip of his drink. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the night? Anything exciting?"

"Definitely. I'm hoping to get leid." Kurt said, pawing at the lei as suggestively as he could.

Ryan gulped down the remains of his drink and placed a twenty on the bar. "Wanna get out of here?"

Kurt slid his hand into the crook of Ryan's arm. "I thought you'd never ask."


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring Rachel's terrible puns

…_you call me, I love you. Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, we called it off again last night. But ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh, this time I'm telling you, I'm telling you…_

Kurt shot upright in bed, the soft grey sheets pooling at his waist, as the extremely loud volume of the top 40 station forced him into consciousness. He looked around the room trying to identify the source of the music. Luckily, Ryan's head appeared in the doorway as he turned off the radio before Taylor could get more than two words into the chorus.

"I guess I forgot to turn off my alarm," he apologized sheepishly, taking in Kurt's disgruntled appearance. "I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast when you woke up."

"You made me breakfast?" he asked, slightly shocked at the reversal to his typical role.

Ryan shook his head. "Still working on that. Though, as you're awake, I was thinking two egg white omelets with spinach, mushrooms, and green peppers with feta cheese. Any objections?"

"That sounds perfect. Can I help?" Kurt asked, pulling on the jeans he'd worn the night before.

Ryan smiled. "Sure."

He hadn't noticed it last night, but the kitchen was just as gorgeous as the bedroom. The open concept of the condo helped the small kitchen alcove to feel more spacious than it would had there been a wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Matching bright red small kitchen appliances stood out boldly against the white marble counter top of the island. And the large appliances on the wall opposite blended in with the cabinets. Ryan handed him a red silicone whisk.

"Can you crack the eggs while I cut up the vegetables?" he asked.

Kurt made quick work of the eggs on the counter. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Ryan's surprised smile. He seemed to find that rather impressive. Kurt was suddenly grateful for learning how to crack them one handed when he was younger. Soon enough, preparation was over and it was time to cook the eggs and Ryan retrieved an unsurprisingly red spatula from the drawer in the island.

"We work well together," Ryan said with a wink, flipping the omelet. 

"Yeah, and we're pretty good at cooking together, too."

**X**

For the fifth time, Kurt smoothed his outfit. This was ridiculous. He didn't need to stand there outside of his own apartment working up the nerve to go inside. He took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

Rachel spun around from where she was seated at the table. "Kurt. Where were you?" she shrieked, not giving him time to answer. "We were worried sick. I mean, we left early so I wasn't worried _all_ night, but when you still weren't here when I woke up…"

"Rachel, I left before you."

As if roused by his return - or more likely the banshee-like interrogation of his girlfriend – Brody came out of the bedroom, thankfully wearing a pair of black sweatpants. "Hey Kurt, how was your first New York walk of shame?"

Rachel gasped and elbowed him in the ribs. "He didn't take a walk of shame," she hissed.

"You're right, Rachel. He drove me home."

Rachel's face was turning an unhealthy shade of red. "So you just went home with some random guy you met on Halloween in New York City and then, to top it all off, you gave him our address?"

"Of course not," he assured her. "I had him drop me off at the nice apartment complex a few blocks away."

This did not appear to have calmed her. "What, so now you're ashamed of us? Of this place?"

"Rachel, what do you want me to say?" he asked, "Can you honestly tell me you'd even look twice at this apartment without condemning it if we didn't actually live here?"

She sputtered in indignation but said nothing further on the topic.

"I just didn't want him to think differently about me when he saw where I lived." Kurt said gently.

"That means that he had a nice place." Brody said, looking up from his bowl of cheerios.

"He has a condo in Clinton Hill. It's quaint, but so nice. But that's because he's older than us."

Rachel found her voice. "How much older?" she asked, sounding vaguely scandalized.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Rachel. I didn't exactly ask to see his birth certificate. That's not really my idea of foreplay."

"C'mon, Kurt," Brody interjected, "You must have some idea."

"He's a college graduate, so he's at least 22. I didn't see the year on his diploma."

"Oh? Where did he go? Was he a Public _Affairs _major at _One Night Stand_-ford University?"

It was comforting to know that the New York makeover had not improved Rachel's sense of humor in the slightest. But he knew there was no need to dignify her play on words with any sort of comeback. The truth would be just as effective.

"Actually, he went to Julliard." He said, "I'm going to bed. We didn't waste a lot of time sleeping, so try and keep it down please."

He retreated quickly waiting for either the explosion or change of heart that would likely follow. Surely enough, he heard Rachel contemplating the minutiae with Brody through the curtain.

"Julliard? I bet he was pretty dreamy." She whispered


	3. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt embraces his new normal

It had been 49 days – not that Kurt was counting – since Blaine had arrived unannounced on his doorstep with a bouquet of beautiful roses and a devastating declaration of infidelity. Kurt had taken his mourning period and eaten much too much ice cream while torturing himself with romantic movies. Aside from Halloween night, life had pretty much gone back to the way it was before. It had taken some time, but Rachel had finally stopped asking when he was planning to see his "Halloween Hottie" again and accepted it for what it had been: a one-night stand to help him get over Blaine.

And now everything was back to normal. Which, in and of itself, wasn't bad. Kurt liked the life he had made for himself in New York, but every so often something would make him think about Blaine and, of course, the cheating. And that brought up the hurt and disgust he'd been burying under Ambien and so-called normality. Today, it was a bouquet of flowers that had been delivered to his desk. Begonias, daffodils, and freesias. It was a decidedly odd arrangement, and Kurt didn't care for it.

He immediately regretted suggesting that Blaine should buy a book on flower meanings. He had, quite spitefully, told Blaine that his choice to send yellow and red roses wasn't quite on message with his apology card. And in doing so, apparently Kurt had created an obsession or desire in Blaine to express himself through flowers. And these ones were a doozy.

The begonias were most likely in recognition of a difficult problem he was working through. Which would be the aftermath of their relationship. The daffodils, obviously, were a reminder of their lasting friendship, and the freesias offering a burst of energy to help with the problem referenced by the begonias. At least this one didn't have a card with a drawing of another man in the doghouse or begging for forgiveness. Those were getting old. He knocked the flowers, non-descript glass vase and all, into the trashcan beside his desk. Today was another day. He'd get through it, hopefully with less thoughts of Blaine than the day before.

**X**

Kurt was awakened – yet again – by Katy Perry's Teenage Dream. Blaine was calling. He had to change that ringtone. If he was smarter, he'd block Blaine's number. His phone dinged to notify him of a voicemail. Kurt squeezed his eyes closed and listened to the sound of the early morning New York commute. It was surprising how quickly the noise of the city had become as calming as the tranquility Ohio offered. He could hear Rachel and Brody stirring across the apartment. At least he hoped that's what they were doing this early in the morning. Kurt's eyes flew open as Teenage Dream played yet again.

Before he could think better of it, he snatched the phone from his bedside table, yanking the charger from the outlet as he did so, and answered it for the first time. "What?" he hissed.

"Kurt. Hi, did I wake you?" Blaine asked softly.

"You woke me up with your first phone call of the day." Kurt responded, "What do you want?"

"Right, okay. I heard what you said at Grease, about not trusting me anymore. And I get it. I'm really, really sorry Kurt. You don't even know how sorry I am. I can't sleep or focus on anything other than how much I've hurt you - about what's happened to us. But I think if you'd just give me a chance to explain – "

"I don't want you to explain why you cheated on me." Kurt snarled, desperate to cut off Blaine's frenzied rambling. "I answered the phone for one reason."

"You didn't want your voicemail to get all cluttered?" he guessed.

"Blaine. Please stop calling me to say you're sorry."

"Okay. I'm sorry. I mean, I will." Blaine stammered. "I just wanted you to know that I feel terrible about everything."

Kurt sighed heavily, steeling himself. This was how it had to be. "I want you to stop calling me. And texting me. What's done is done, Blaine. Let it go."

He heard Blaine inhale shakily, and ended the call before he lost his nerve. It was done.

**X**

On day 52 AB (After Breakup), Kurt received a Gilmore Girls DVD boxed set from Blaine. He decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, mostly because he didn't want to believe that Blaine had deliberately disregarded his wishes. Perhaps it had been mailed before the phone call where Kurt cut off all contact between them. He took the package to the mail room and repackaged it with a return to sender sticker on top. Just in time for Jerry to take the rest of the outgoing mail. He'd just returned to his desk when Chase knocked on the doorway.

"Hey, so I know you've had a rough couple of weeks, so I took everyone's coffee orders for you." He said, waving a cluttered yellow post-it note in his hand. "Unfortunately, I can't actually go and get them, because I have a meeting with Antonia and then Isabelle wants me to redo the culotte piece in the Hot-or-Not article. But, I tried."

Kurt smiled weakly. "Thank you. I'll go get them and be back in time for the staff meeting in 20 minutes."

"I'll let Isabelle know." Chase called over his shoulder as headed for the conference room.

On the walk to the coffee shop Kurt tried to focus his mind on the present. He allowed himself enjoy the crisp autumn air and the novelty of the city he had dreamed about since he was young. He had more success than he'd hoped. Maybe he was finally moving on.

The Starbucks he usually stopped at was crowded, so he kept walking until he arrived at the next one. It was significantly less crowded. Nonetheless, he felt bad for the barista when he handed her his post-it note. He so did not miss working at the Lima Bean. Kurt squeezed ten coffees for the staff into two drink carriers and headed for the door. He was more than halfway there before he realized he couldn't pull the door open without his hands. He turned around to ask the barista for a bag to place one of the carriers into, and almost ran right into a tall blond man in a navy blue blazer and tan slacks.

It was his Halloween hookup. And he cleaned up very nicely.

"Easy there, Superman." Ryan jested, "Let me help you with that."

Kurt readjusted his grip and moved the carrier out of Ryan's grasp. "No, no. I got it."

"Okay." Ryan acquiesced, his hands raised in surrender. "Where are you going with all those coffees? Do you have a homemade caffeine IV drip set up somewhere?"

"Ugh, I wish." Kurt said. "I'm an intern for Vogue dot com."

"Wow. That's impressive, Kurt."

"Thank you." He said, surprised that Ryan remembered his name.

"Any chance you have a little time to drink some coffee yourself? With me, maybe?"

"Umm…yeah. I have a little time." Kurt agreed. Today was about moving on, and what better way to do it than an impromptu coffee date? Isabelle would understand. She always did. "Let me just text my boss." He sent her a quick message before he tried to put his phone in his pocket, but Ryan stopped him.

"Actually, before you put that away, I was hoping I could give you something you forgot when you left my place after Halloween?"

Kurt smiled wryly and navigated to the add new contacts screen before handing his phone to Ryan. "Go ahead."

Getting Ryan's number was very on theme with today. Not to mention, quite an ego boost.

"So, Kurt, tell me more about this internship." Ryan implored as they sat at a nearby table. "What's it like working at The Vogue dot com?"


	4. Thanksgiving Tête-à-tête

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's turkey lurkey time y'all

Kurt inhaled deeply as he slid the door to their apartment closed. Rachel was making lavender tea again today, which was much better than the chamomile she’d been drinking for the last week.

“Okay, why are you smiling like that?” she asked. “You look like the cat who got the canary.”

He could feel his cheeks flush. “What? So, I’m not allowed to smile anymore? Wasn’t it you who told me to stop moping and move on with my life?” he quipped.

“Yes, but you’re never this cheerful after the subway ride home. And wasn’t today the day with the big, important meeting that you weren’t allowed to attend?” she queried. “I was expecting Grumpy Kurt, not Happy-go-Lucky Kurt. But I can’t say I mind the change.”

“The big meeting is next Tuesday.” He corrected absently. “Today was a regular mandatory staff meeting, that I kind of didn’t go to.”

She put down her teacup, turning her full attention to him. “What? Why not?”

“Because on my way back with everyone’s coffee orders, I ran into my one-night stand.” It was difficult not to smile even more at the mention of Ryan.

“Ooh. The Juilliard guy?” she gushed, “But why did that mean you missed your meeting?”

“Because Isabelle is the very best fairy godmother/boss and told me I could skip it since Ryan asked me to get coffee with him.”

Rachel gasped. “Kurt, that’s fantastic! And how was coffee? Tell me everything.”

Coffee had been great. Ryan had listened to him talk about his internship, the fallout of his last relationship, and not getting accepted at NYADA. In short, all the things he couldn’t talk about with Rachel. Because he was happy for her – he really was – but it was nice to talk to someone about how the rejection made him feel.

“That good huh?” she teased when he took too long to answer.

He blushed. “Yeah. It was really nice. We talked about things; personal, professional, etcetera. And he gave me his number. I think I might want to see him again. Which is a shame, because I was excited to tell Santana about my one-night stand.”

They both laughed.

He went over to the bulletin board and considered the different menus. “How do you feel about a late dinner at Hartbreakers? I could really go for some vegan food with a bright yellow backdrop.”

“Hartbreakers sounds good. But can we do delivery instead?” she suggested. “I’d really rather stay in and talk. This way we can start off our Thanksgiving weekend the right way.”

He pulled out his phone to call in their regular delivery order and noticed an unread message from earlier.

_What up Hummel? Too good 4 the rest of us Lima Losers now?_

“Did you get this passive aggressive message from Puck, too?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” She showed him her phone as she scrolled down her recent messages. “And here’s one from Quinn and Santana and a weird assortment of emojis from Mike. Which, frankly, is ridiculous considering Quinn still hasn’t used her train ticket. We talk about this every week, Kurt. And she always says she’s too busy, and I get that. Maintaining a straight A GPA is both important and demanding. I just don’t understand how she doesn’t realize why we also cannot make the trip back for Thanksgiving this year.”

He sighed deeply. This was not the first time he had heard this particular rant.

“I know.” He agreed, “Especially since we wouldn’t even make it back in time for the reunion meal Finn and Puck planned at Breadstix. My internship doesn’t let out early just because classes do.” He takes a deep breath and prepares himself for the possible backlash of his next statement. “Speaking of Quinn, I was thinking that maybe you should calm down with the weekly emails. Give her something to miss.”

**x**

In between bites of her favorite sandwich, Rachel kept looking at him. He wished she’d just say whatever it was she wanted to say and stop staring because, frankly, it was difficult to eat his beet burger in any semblance of an attractive manner.

“So, I was talking to Brody today and I told him about our orphan Thanksgiving. And I kind of invited him to come over tomorrow afternoon and help us cook.” She mumbled, finally looking away from him.

Great. Another meal spent as the awkward third wheel while Rachel giggled and flirted with the hot straight boy that wasn’t his brother.

“I thought this Thanksgiving was about forgetting any guy who’d ever broken the heart of any girl or guy?” He reminded her. She had been so into the idea during their walk through the city. 

“I was angry that he slept with Cassandra, but since I talked to him right away, we were able to work through that.” She clarified. “And he was right. It was a little crazy to expect him to read my mind about the whole Finn thing. The important part is, we’re exclusive now, and we want to spend Thanksgiving together.”

Regardless of his thoughts about Brody and ‘the whole Finn thing,’ he could use this to his advantage. While inviting Isabelle to crash their dinner didn’t actually conflict with their now nullified pact, he hadn’t been sure Rachel would be as thrilled about the possibility as he was.

“You’re right” he conceded. “I’m happy for the two of you and I don’t see why he can’t join us for dinner.”

She exhaled happily and gratefully wrapped her arms around him. It was time to go in for the kill.

“So, you know how I was so cool about it, just now, when you told me you invited Brody to crash our orphan thanksgiving?” he said once she’d ended the embrace.

“Uh oh.”

“No, no ‘uh oh.’” He reassured her. “Isabelle was still there when I left the office today. She told me that she used to go to Gore Vidal’s for Thanksgiving dinner and Pictionary, but he died this year, as you know. So, when I found out Isabelle was planning to recreate her first New York Thanksgiving – with turkey pizzas and boots and sadness – I just figured we could keep her away from all that, and I invited her to drop by. She might not even come.”

Rachel’s worried demeanor softened as she heard the explanation. “I guess that’s okay. That was really nice of you, Kurt. I’ll ask Brody if he can bring Pictionary, just in case.”

“She might bring some friends too.” He added quickly.

“Kurt!” she shrieked.

**x**

He couldn’t believe that Brody was trying to DIY their Thanksgiving dinner. Honestly, cooking a turkey in a bag of all things. Self-basting or not, Ina Garten would be appalled. It’s not like Rachel will even be eating the turkey, so why does Brody get any say in this part of the feast? Kurt was perfectly capable of roasting a turkey. He’d been doing it for years.

Brody beckoned her over and somehow convinced her to help prepare the poor, dead turkey for baking. Kurt had to admit, hearing her apologize to the turkey before slathering it in butter was quite entertaining. But he could do without the eye-sex over their holiday meal.

“When you two are done using that turkey as a courtship device, would you put it in the oven?” Kurt interjected before it progressed to intolerable levels of heterosexual nonsense. “Cuz, it’s almost 5 o’clock.”

Sectionals would be starting soon. What an odd day to hold a singing competition. Rachel’s explanation for a rise in ticket sales seemed implausible. Wouldn’t people want to be home with their families instead of out watching high schoolers performing musical numbers?

If he were in Lima, he would be staying home with Carole and Dad and Finn. Actually, Finn would be at sectionals since he had taken over for Mr. Schue, but that didn’t mean Kurt would have to go. He could just enjoy a traditional Thanksgiving meal with his Dad and Carole. Finn would join them later, once sectionals was over. God, he was homesick.

“I think I’m gonna call my Dad.” He said, cutting off Rachel’s memories of her own first Sectionals.

“Well, tell Burt I say hi.” She said. “Don’t worry, Brody and I will take care of everything in here while you guys talk.”

**x**

They had just sat down to eat when someone knocked on the door to the apartment. Probably Isabelle arriving just in time to help Brody eat the Turkey. He certainly would not be eating it a lion’s share after watching the two of them manhandle the poor bird.

He slid open the door to a fabulously dressed group of strangers. Isabelle was not among them. “Can I help you?” he asked.

Very rarely did Kurt Hummel feel underdressed for his own soirees. It was not a pleasant feeling.

“Isabelle Wright invited us to an Orphan Party here?” explained a woman in a gold sequin shrug he was dying to try on.

He stepped aside to let them in. “Wait, have any of you heard from Isabelle? I tried calling her earlier, but I got her voicemail.”

He surveyed the room while he waited for someone to answer. A cropped cheetah print faux fur shrug paired with a royal blue dress caught his eye. Now, he had said it before, and he would say it again - Kurt Hummel did not do drag. But if he could look anywhere near as fantastic as the example before him, he might be persuaded to revise his beliefs. 

“She was stopping at some new club opening next to Pyramid, over in the East Village.” They said as their eyes met Kurt’s.

His phone vibrating tore his gaze away. It was Isabelle.

“Hey, I’m calling you back.” She said. “Ooh. She’s been a bitch tonight. And by bitch, I mean this rain. No cabs anywhere.” 

Oh, to be Isabelle Wright. He shared a look with Rachel as even more people poured into the luckily spacious apartment.

“So, I had to put on the wig and the heels and the lashes and the heels and the ear, and take a train to the club.” Isabelle continued, “So, I hope you’re up girl, ‘cause we are all coming over. Lock the door, lower the blinds, light up the smoke machine, and put on your heels, ‘cause I know exactly what we need.”

She appeared in the doorway as his phone beeped in his ear ending the call. Was she seriously about to start a spontaneous holiday sing-along? Brody was going to hate this.

“Let’s Have a Kiki!” she sang as she entered the room. Her fashion industry friends were more than happy to reply in song. This was exactly what Kurt needed. He could actually feel the endorphins flood his brain as he let himself join in. Off to the side he could see Rachel persuading Brody to participate as well. 

“Wait, what’s a Kiki?” Brody asked as Rachel led him by the hand.”

Kurt couldn’t believe his luck. What a perfect lead-in to the next verse. He jumped on the opportunity before anyone else could. After all, what was a Hummel-Berry party without a solo opportunity?

Apparently, Rachel had the same idea. He couldn’t hold back the amused smile when she cut in with Turkey Lurkey Time. It appeared she would get her holiday medley after all. The rest of their guests did not seem to be as acquainted with the lyrics to the new song choice, so Kurt joined in. And even though he enjoyed the corniness of it all, he couldn’t help but feel relieved when Isabelle brought it back around to the Scissor Sisters.

**x**

The party continued. He’d had so few happy nights since Blaine’s visit. Kurt couldn’t help thinking that he would have loved this party. And if that didn’t bring down the whole mood, what would? He could hear Isabelle’s words echoing in his head. _Sometimes it’s the not forgiving that’s holding us back._

He crept away from the dance floor. It was much too loud in here to make a phone call. He glanced at the phone in his hand indecisively. He had just gotten Blaine to stop calling him a week ago. Was this the right move? 

It would be quieter on the fire escape. Isabelle was right. He needed to accept Blaine’s apology, and then they could both move on. He hovered over Blaine’s name in his contacts. He could do this.

And then Blaine answered. He wasn’t ready for this.

“Hey.” He said anyway. “Can you hear me? It’s kind of loud out here.”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I can hear you.”

Blaine sounded confused. He couldn’t blame him.

“Have you guys performed yet?” he stalled.

“Uh. No, not yet. Kurt, I just want you to know that no matter –”

Kurt didn’t like where this was headed. He had to say his piece before he lost his nerve. “Just let me talk for a second. Look, you’ve said you’re sorry a million times. And I believe you. And I’m trying to forgive you but I’m just not there yet. But it’s Thanksgiving, and it’s sectionals, and…I miss you like crazy. And I can’t stand not talking to you, even though I’m mad at you. ‘Cause you’re still my best friend.”

He could hear Blaine crying softly. “You’re mine too.” He sobbed.

“At Christmas, we need to have a mature heart-to-heart.” He heard himself say. This was not part of the plan, but he couldn’t stop rambling as he suggested activities for the two of them. Thankfully, Blaine cut him off with a surprised laugh when he mentioned his time at the Lima Bean.

“So, uh, we’re really gonna see each other at Christmas?” he asked.

“Yeah.” There was an uncomfortable silence. Talking with Blaine had never used to be like this. But what else was there to say? He’d done his part. “Well, don’t let any of those hideous Warblers win, Alright? Break a leg. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.” Blaine managed to stutter out. “Kurt, I love you so much.”

Kurt nodded as he choked back tears. “I love you too.” He admitted. And the line went dead.

He’d had no idea this would take that much out of him. Kurt climbed back in from the fire escape with tears clouding his vision. Somehow Isabelle was right there waiting for him.

Kurt melted into Isabelle’s embrace. Her hugs were amazing, just like her. Behind them he could hear Rachel laughing as she explained the merits of Barbara Streisand over Cher to one of Isabelle’s friends. _Nothing is better than being single in New York City. _This was. It wasn’t at all what they had planned, but their Orphan Party had been exactly what he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Ryan this chapter.


End file.
